


Lords of the Sith

by narwhaloverlord



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Sarcasm, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 07:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3888484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narwhaloverlord/pseuds/narwhaloverlord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Rys, Dark Lord of the Sith attempts to track down Darth Jadus in hopes of finding more power to help defeat the Emperor a dark threat arises in the Sith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wrath

**Author's Note:**

> This has spoilers for all of the class stories in it. You've been warned. And you're being warned again. Spoilers ahead.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If I wanted to seem approachable I would never have become Sith. I would be sitting in a temple complaining and preaching about things I have no intention of doing anything about.”

Of all of the Council Chambers the woman had seen she had to admit that Rys’ were the most disarming.

They were grey, that seemed to be mandatory almost everywhere on Dromund Kaas, but he had somehow managed to turn it into a _friendlier_ shade. It had a way of either lulling one into a false sense of security and safety, or, as was the case for her, putting her on edge in a way that even Darth Marr could not manage.

It made the hairs on the back of her neck rise up at her discomfort and she could have sworn that the temperature dropped once inside of the room. Even through the thick black plates of her armour she was cold despite there was no difference in temperature according to the scanners inside of it. 

She was reminded of her time on Hoth for a moment. That had not been a hospitable planet by any stretch of the imagination. It had been barren and Quinn had spent more time complaining than actually doing his job. Something he rated higher than she’d have assumed from that experience.

Resisting the urge to tighten her cloak around her shoulders the Emperor’s Wrath strode past a small group of Sith and made her way through the familiar set up towards where she knew Rys would be waiting for her.

The room she entered was simply shelves. There were holocrons and texts and datapads stacked precariously in some places but orderly in others. The few people who worked as servants, he refused any slaves, were not allowed to touch anything. He put them away himself. He’d gotten a reputation as a bit strange even before he’d gained his position; he was reasonable, for a Sith, and pursued knowledge before anything else rather than furthering his own position. It had served him well enough over the years. It was that odd balance between chaos and neatness that had always confused her about the Sith lord. It hardly helped her mood which had been sour to start with.

She had managed to avoid the holocalls from a large group of people for the day; some diplomats or strategists or moffs or generals, all of them unable to do a simple task that they had been ordered to do and only she could complete. It disgusted her. The Sith had made the military lazy. She had rarely seen them in the depths of the territories she'd fought in. She had skillfully avoided any menial calls for hours but she hadn’t been able to ignore this one. Despite the fact that they had not spoken for reasons other than business for the Empire and Sith, she still counted Rys among the increasingly small group of people she called friends.

Rys had asked for a favour and she had decided to put away plans of training and bashing in the heads of several ill-intentioned Sith and was now standing across from him feeling less than in-control. Something she had grown to hate over the years. That hate was power but the price was the loss of it. 

He was powerful, he always had been, but sitting cross-legged on the floor staring at a screen of some sort of symbol, the lethan twi’lek looked practically harmless.

He had abandoned his robes for a tunic and loose fitting pants. With the brand on his face and the simple clothing she would never have suspected how high up in Sith’s ranks he was. He still could have passed for a slave if he’d removed his lightsaber. The waves of power that rolled off of him were subtle to, some Sith would not know who they were insulting until too much had been said. Not that he’d call them out. He’d often take the words or gestures with a faint smile and only reveal who he was later. Most often it was after some terrible circumstance had befallen said individual.

He didn’t bother looking up when she entered and she saw no point in saying anything. He had called this meeting and it wasn’t as if he was unaware of her.

She cut a striking figure despite her lack of height, she made up for that with brute force, and the force of her rage should have alerted him along with the clang of her metal boots striking the floor as she approached. Stealth had never truly been a strong suit of hers. When she had first come to this planet someone had called her a brute. That was true, she accepted that now, however that was hardly to say she was a muscled brute with nothing but air between her ears as she skirted through the Sith using a combination of looks and misused power.  

“It’s been awhile, Wrath” he said without looking up.

“What do you want?” she asked.

The twi’lek smiled and set the datapad aside and looked up at her with a hint of amusement in his bright green eyes.

“You always were rather direct.”

“Wasting breath is just another way of wasting-“

“Your time, yes, I know.”

The Emperor’s Wrath grimaced at that. She wasn’t used to people interrupting her anymore. Few soldiers would do so even to an apprentice, and as an equal to a Dark Council member she rarely got anyone stupid enough to contradict or interrupt her.

Even Vette’s constant chattering had stopped recently and she hadn’t spoken to the only others she could count on to speak their minds in months.

There was a good chance they were dead now that she thought about it. They hadn’t chosen the safest career options and neither was adept at shutting their mouths when they should.

Rage was hardly something new for her though, so she tightened her fists and looked straight ahead, vision fixed on some point above Rys' head.

Rys blinked and took in her appearance before speaking again. “You seem a bit on edge.”

“We are at war, I have been fighting for months, unlike some people.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “I’m more use here than fighting on some nameless planet. I’ve found plenty of interesting things.”

If he'd been able to see through her mask, which was little more than a slit for her eyes surrounded by metal, he would have seen her scowl deepen even further. “I doubt you asked me here for an update on my feelings so what is it?”

The Sith sighed and grabbed a datapad from the small pile next to him.

She took it with a steady hand. Wrath had not seen the other Sith in months. She had been fighting on battlefields while he sat in his chambers before heading for some obscure place filled with danger and skipping off to investigate without informing anyone. He had a right to do as he pleased, and as the head of the Sphere of Knowledge and Ancient Wisdom he had no real obligation to be serving their armed forces, yet it still irked her that he had gone from fighting on Corellia to reading all day.

“I have something you might be interested in.”

“What?”

“I would tell you but I am not quite sure what it is. Besides, when you go on your inevitable murder spree I would prefer to have _some_ defense with regards to my involvement.”

“I only kill when necessary and _you_ shouldn’t concern yourself with _my_ affairs.”

The smile that flickered across his face was one of amusement. Her underlying threat meant little to him. When they’d first met she could have stabbed him within seconds. Now he had become extremely powerful, much more powerful than her if she was being honest, with his command of the force. His lightsaber technique had improved as well thanks to training with the Jedi padawan he’d taken on. Now she was less certain of who would win in a fight. 

“You know that helmet hardly makes you seem less threatening.”

“If I wanted to seem approachable I would never have become Sith. I would be sitting in a temple complaining and preaching about things I have no intention of doing anything about.”

Rys’ smile returned as he set his head in his hand and stared at her outfit.

She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her shift with the discomfort she would have when she had first met him.

“Yes, the outfit rather does scream ‘I’ll kill you if you come near me’, it’s a good thing you’re already married.”

The only sound was that of her filtered breath through the mask.

Wrath reached her gloved hands up to her helmet and carefully removed it and tucked it under her arm to fix him with a glare that would not have come across so well through the black visor of her helmet.

“Tell me what you want done with it. I’ll see you later" Rys told her. 

The woman glared at him as he rose.

“You asked me here for a short chat with some cryptic message and then you leave?”

“I have a meeting. You are welcome to join us if you’d like. I need to get changed though and unless your husband is alright with that then you should probably leave.”

The rage that had been so tightly wound flared up and the shelves rattled slightly as she turned and stormed out of the room and left his offices. 

There was a moment of silence as the sound of her boots faded.

“Well, I believe that proves that something is wrong” Rys said, turning around to address the vast space of his library. 

The Chiss stepped out of the shadows of one of the shelves with a worried look on his face. His eyes were practically glowing in the dim lighting that he'd been using as cover to assist the stealth tech, and he was biting his lip with his fingers drumming out a beat on his arm. He may not have been Sith, and at his level of power he never would have made it, but the power that radiated off of Eskeahal was hard to miss.

“Clearly. Wrath never really lived up to her name unless she was given a reason to… Now she’s actually acting like she’s supposed to.”

Darth Imperius smiled at that.

Psy was probably one of his closest friends, outside of his crew, and Rys didn’t even know his real name. He’d met the former Intelligence agent when he first come to Drommund Kaas with his first master after leaving Korriban.

That had been longer ago than he cared to admit. They’d met Eskeahal, or ‘Wrath’ as she now insisted on being called, there as well, along with Cien and a couple of Sith who had not lasted long. 

Rys never have thought he would become close to any of them.

Back then Eskeahal had been a prodigy of remarkable power. Her hair was a shade of Sith-appropriate reddish-pink with a marking across the right side of her face and a tendency to draw her blade on anyone who irritated her.

Psy had almost immediately fallen into that last category along with him. The agent was as bright blue as he was red with minimal field experience at the time, and he had more of a mouth on him than the rest of them combined. Which was what had caused Eskeahal to find him as annoying as she did in the first place. The agent was adept at mouthing off to Sith. Rys had hardly been surprised to find him staggering out of the office of a Sith with some nasty looking burns when he was still running around the citadel with an armful of reading material and holocrons for his first master. 

Now the agent was dressed in a casual military style uniform. If one looked closely they would notice that it didn’t specify what part of the Empire he served. Not that the average person would question why a Chiss was in Imperial space. Psy had claimed it was an advantage of kinds. When he was undercover everyone automatically assumed he hated the Empire, once they stopped thinking he was part of it, and in Imperial space he was hardly out of place even with the distinctively alien appearance. He himself had never had that luxury. A twi’lek in Imperial space was a slave or a criminal. Most often the former and the rest were treated as such.

Even after the agent had defected Rys still considered him a friend. Something he doubted Psy's superiors approved of. Rys was known for being reasonable among Sith but having regular chats with a member of the Dark Council didn't seem to be something that the brass would agree with. Even if Rys did give them a tip whenever the two of them spoke. Believing in the Empire was how he’d gotten the name 'Imperius' Either that or Marr had been running short on names. Regardless, changing it was his goal. Blowing up civilians and attacking colonies could not always be stopped by a Sith. The Republic was a tool for him, and they likely knew it, but they were too willing to save lives to complain. 

That was not the point though. Imperius hadn’t asked Psy there when he could have had one of his own servants look into this matter for him. He had asked him there because he was discreet, clever, knew Eskeahal personally, and he was an expert slicer who would do this for less money. Anyone else and Rys ran the risk of someone finding out what he was doing. Not that it was unusual or against any laws from what he knew, but someone would tell Eskeahal and then there would be a problem. He couldn't afford her finding out until after she was back to normal. 

“Find out what’s been bothering her. That's all you have to do.”

“’Bothering’ is an interesting term for ‘causing one to go on rampages’” the agent pointed out calmly.

“Just find out why she’s become psychotic, I need her help but I doubt she’ll lend any aid to me now.”

“She already knows that you’re nice; she was too, more or less.”

Imperius shrugged and grabbed a robe out from a box stuffed underneath a map of some kind. “She was more neutral than light or dark. I need to know I can trust her if I’m going to bring her in on this.”

“Whatever, just don’t let her know I did this.”

“Worried?”

“She’s likely to kill me anyways but I’d rather not have to face that issue right now.”

“Understood” the Sith said as he pulled his shirt over his head and tugged the robe on. “That works both ways given what I’m paying you.”

“You’re paying me to not let her know I’ve gotten the information; if she confronts me about it I will rat you out as soon as she gets her hand near that hilt.”

“So much for loyalty.”

“I’m not getting paid enough to risk my life and I can’t spend the credits if she kills me.”

“Sensible but I will reserve the right to be offended.”

The agent shrugged noncommittally and looked at the door she’d just walked out from.

“That’s quite a difference between now and a few months ago. I thought it took years for it to get that bad.”

Imperius massaged his temples and one of his lekku twitched.

He’d felt a darkness in her that was more than just her normal attitude. It was as if some black creature had taken root inside of her and was sending of pulses of rage.

As soon as she’d taken off the helmet he realized the extent of her corruption.

Her skin had always been rather pale. When he’d spoken with her on Tattooine she had been buying a helmet to try and cover the pink skin that had become so quickly and badly burned.

This was no result of genetics or the constant rain on Drommund Kaas though. She’d taken on the appearance of a corpse. Her veins stood out hard in black lines against her skin and her yellow eyes had become a burnt shade of orange that only helped make her light brown hair look dull and as lifeless as the rest of her.

He had never had to worry about dark side corruption. He used a combination of powers and as she well knew he was generally warm hearted. This had kept his skin the same vibrant shade of red it had always been and he’d never seen his skin become so pale and cracked.

Eskeahal was a different story: she looked like a walking corpse fuelled by rage. She’d been beautiful once. Now she was so far gone he wondered what he was getting into by having his friend investigate.

That was when he realized that Psy was looking at at him with a slightly bemused and expectant expression on his face.

Rys cleared his throat and adjusted his robes.

“She’s powerful and her rage is so deep that I can see it accelerating the process" Rys explained. "I am surprised that there was such a difference though. I saw her briefly a couple of months ago and it was not nearly as noticeable" he added with a note of concern in his voice. 

“Shame, she used to be pretty. Not really my type though, and I don’t think she liked me all that much. Talked too much or something, I guess.”

“All the more reason for you to hurry up. I need to know if I can trust her. This is important. I also need you to look into the personal life of our secondary concern.”

“You’re sure about this guy? I know you have your sources… Can’t you just ignore him?”

“That would be unwise.”

“You’ve got everyone else fooled. You feel like a Sith and you certainly act like one.”

“It’s not me that I’m worried about.”

“I can take care of myself. If Jadus didn’t sense anything than Lord whoever won’t either.”

That much was debatable. Whether or not Jadus knew that Psy was Force sensitive was unclear. He may have seen him as an asset too valuable to be killed so quickly. Then again Rys would never have known if he hadn’t told him.

Rys sighed and placed one of the datapads back onto the shelf. “I’m more concerned for Ashara than for you. You’re quite adept at disappearing.”

“So what’s the real problem?”

“You are hardly one to take an issue with less than ethical means of removing a problem. This will help us in the search” the Sith explained. “She’s not going to work with us if she stays like this.”

“I have no problem with that part of the plan, it just raises questions that I don’t want to have to deal with right now.”

“We need her in on this and we can’t afford side distractions.”

“And I’m supposed to magically get her back to normal. Right.”

“You shouldn’t take that tone with a dark lord of the Sith” Rys said in an amused tone.

“I’m respectful when I need to be.”

Rys snorted.

“I never claimed that I found that need to occur often" Psy added with a small grin. 

“Just get it done" Rys told him. 

The agent held up a finger to signify for him to wait, something on rarely did to a Sith lord, and raised a hand to his earpiece.

“Yes, this is Legate to deck. I’m here.”

There was a pause.

“Well believe it or not I do have things to do. Yes, I’ll be there soon. I just needed to talk to a contact.”

“Be careful no one intercepts that” the twi’lek warned as the Chiss finished the call.

“I’m the very definition of careful. I know how to get around Imperial security. Which is an overstatement in itself. This place is hardly secure.”

“Get it done. The Emperor isn’t going to be sitting around waiting for long.”

“He could give me the courtesy of waiting until I’m finished my lunch. Living on rations may be quick but cooking surpasses it by far" Psy said. "I don't know how these people survive on those things. At least the Ascendancy makes sure people can cook a meal." 

Rys rolled his eyes and strolled out of the room his robes fluttering behind him as he made his way towards the Dark Council’s meeting room. 

 

 

The Chiss didn’t follow Rys out. He still had work to do. 

He needed access to the pure processing power that Rys could offer him here and it would be easier for him to get the information Rhys needed before he could leave. The agent was going to slice into the files he needed and gather what he could. He'd actually go through all of the information he’d gathered later.

If his boss told him he was wasting time with this trip to Drommund Kaas, which was also quite risky, Psy would just show him all of the information he’d gotten that would help his new employers. He was digging through more than personnel files. There were plenty of weapon and battle plans that accidentally found their way onto his datapad. 

Besides, Psy doubted his boss would turn away the credits he picked up on the job. Their division was off the books and hardly got any funding. The man would probably be thankful rather than upset. 

After checking the download status to his datapad the agent began to pack up.

He made sure there was no trace of his presence and that when Sith Intelligence was formed eventually they would have no reason to suspect that a breach in their security had occurred. Especially from the office of a member of the Dark Council, that would make sure that he was not going to get paid.

Psy waited for a moment before quietly making his way out into the hall only to find himself being lifted up bodily by the hand that clamped down on his throat.

The Emperor’s Wrath glared at him. “Should I even ask?”


	2. A Plan Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re the Emperor’s new Wrath?” Penn asked.
> 
> "You are surprised?" Wrath asked him. 
> 
> “Well, not offense or anything but I thought you’d be taller.”

Ardun Kothe was a busy man.

That was what happened when you ran a team like his. He may have been off the books but he was hardly free of paperwork.

One agent had once told him that he’d seen less paperwork in a Senate office.

Now Ardun Kothe was watching a potential new member get beaten by some Academy student.

He sighed and looked down to find the next one's information on the datapad.

Replacing Hunter had not been high on his priority list for a long time.

Now he was forced to admit that he needed the extra hands.

“Having fun, sir?” someone asked from behind him.

Kothe didn’t bother to turn around. There were few people who could sneak up on him and he recognized the voice instantly.

“This is your fault in some ways, you know.”

“Should I thank you for not handing me over to Command?”

“I needed the hands and you’re a good agent.”

“So I should hold no feelings of gratitude towards you with regards to you saving me from being tortured, imprisoned, and most likely killed by a bunch of people with laser swords, a very high opinion of theselves, and poor grammar?”

Kothe smiled at that.

Legate was a good agent and Kothe trusted him more than he probably should have. He spoke his mind though, and Legate was not going to pretend that the Republic education system was even close to that of his own people.

“How did it go?” he asked.

The Chiss sighed and leaned against the wall of the viewing area, turning to watch the fight. 

“Rys- I mean Darth Imperius, is looking into Jadus. He wants the information on how Jadus got as powerful as he did and how he hid his presence. It’s not for personal gain. He wants the Emperor stopped and he will work with us if that’s necessary” he replied. He hadn’t bothered to lose the distinctive Imperial accent.

“Are you sure?” Kothe asked him. The recruit was being helped to his feet with a howl of pain. From the looks of things his shoulder had been wrenched from its socket.

If he’d been able to tell, the SIS officer would have guessed Legate had rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was possible with the monochromatic red but it was an expression that would have suited him. “Yes, we were friends. I suppose that’s the right word for it, and even if he’s not always the best person in the world he’s not the type to put his own needs ahead of those of the Empire’s people.”

“You sound like you admire him.”

The agent shrugged. “Maybe once. I don’t know if how well his efforts will sit with his fellow Dark Council members but I respect him for trying at least.”

“So when does he plan on beginning?” Kothe asked. Jadus’ trail had gone cold after he’d vanished off of the Dominator. He was a clever man and exceedingly powerful. They had a possible way to find him but they would not be able to defeat or make sense of anything they recovered from him. That was what the Jedi were for. The Sith's help was also needed, which was where Rys and whoever he brought in, were needed. 

“Soon, he needed another friend of ours to join in. The Emperor’s Wrath, Eskeahal. She was with our group on Drommund Kaas and she’s usually reasonable enough, Cien agreed to join us if Wrath does. She doesn't trust Rys and wants to know that there is a Sith she can trust.”

“The Wrath is renowned for brutality and rage” Kothe pointed out.

“Cien has a sense of honour: even if she wasn’t originally a Mandalorian she truly believes in most of their ideals. Wrath generally agreed with most of them. The only real difference was that Cien would do what she thought was best according to her morals, while Wrath didn't care about anything but the result she was asked for. Unless it truly went against some moral code. Eskeahal would have helped before. Now we’re not sure.”

“What do you mean by that?”

  “She became… violent, more violent, after Corellia. We assumed something happened there that caused her to snap. She was never really one for light or darkat first but then she decided to try and be merciful, to help people. The padawan she brought on the ship changed her views about a lot of things.”

“So what happened and what’s it going to take to resolve the problem?”

“I did some looking after I met with Rys. He’s right, she’s really far gone” the agent began.

“You’re genuinely concerned about this?” Kothe asked in surprise.

“I don’t have many people I trust, and I care about those I do. She was a good person. She’s been through a lot though… her master tried to have her killed when she became too powerful and hard to control.”

“Yes, Darth Baras. His death was a blow against their spy network.”

“He was the one who placed a certain officer aboard her ship. The two were married when he was called on to kill her and he attempted to follow through with the orders. She let him live but I suspect that it was hard for her.”

“After that she got more violent” Kothe stated. He’d seen Jedi fall down a similar path. “I suppose the Order is right about some of its teachings.”

“No, it wasn’t caring that got her in trouble. It was having that care manipulated and then having no way to deal with it. He was close to her and then she was forced to keep working with him even after what he did. It’s being taken care of though.”

Kothe turned to see the agent’s fingers flutter against his throat before dropping to his shoulder. The Jedi’s attention returned to the ring to see the last potential recruit he’d screened enter, before looking back to find the room completely empty aside from himself. 

Psy was gone and there was no trace of his presence. Slightly dramatic but impressive all the same. 

Kothe smiled and watched as the two fighters began to circle each other, getting ready for a fight. Maybe _this_ one would be good enough to complete his team. 

 

 

 

“There is no peace. Peace is a lie. There is only passion.”

Wrath struck out at the dummy with a hacking motion delivered to its arm. If it had been human the limb would have been on the floor.

“Through passion I gain strength.”

A thrust through the stomach that would have cut past the Jedi’s imaginary guard.

“Through strength, power.”

Another sweep at the arm, the other side.

“Through power, victory.”

A quick decapitation with a flick of her arm.

“Through victory my chains are broken!” she was shouting now. Her voice echoed loudly in the confines of the room. It was likely anyone nearby could hear her. 

A sweep followed by another until it became a flurry of blows. A meaningless slaughter of an inanimate object.

“Remind me not to piss you off.”

Eskeahal whirled around with the saber still drawn. Sweat was dripping down her brow and into her eyes.

Cien cocked her head and calmly walked over. 

Wrath didn’t budge, the blade buzzing. She hadn't heard the other woman enter she'd been so distracted. That was worrisome. 

“You know, I think he’s dead by now and I really don’t wanna be cut in half today." The Mandalorian stopped a few paces away while looking pointedly at the lightsaber. "That does have an off switch, doesn't it?" 

“Why- are- you- here?” Eskeahal hissed through heaving gasps.

“’Cause we need to kick some mega-Sith ass and if you’re comin’ you can’t be all evil.” 

Wrath stared at the Mandalorian woman, who had moved over to stand near the weapons rack and was examining a vibrosword.

“If you’re havin’ boy problems, which you are so don’t give me that look. I ain’t stupid. Anyways, I would recommend beating the shit outta something which you have covered rather thoroughly.”

Wrath’s thought began to come to form coherent ideas through the haze of exertion, adrenaline, and anger that had clouded it. She had come to the training room that she’d installed on her ship which meant that the Mandalorian must have boarded without permission…

_Or_ she’d been allowed on by Vette. The two of them had always gotten along… That twi’lek was going to be back in her shock collar by mealtime.

“So I’d like you to come with me so you can watch me beat your husband to a pulp” Cien was saying.

The fog cleared abruptly. 

“What are you talking about?” Wrath demanded angrily. Her arm movement brought the saber hissing through the air in an unintentional slice that came an inch away from the Mandalorian’s throat.

Cien didn’t look at all concerned. Her posture was the same. The helmet could have hidden a horrified expression, but in all the time Wrath had known Cien she had possessed a remarkable ability to stand still and be missed.

“You not been listenin’? Me- Cien- am going to beat up- which means punch a whole lotta times- your husband. The moron with the stick shoved so far up his ass. The guy who betrayed you and you didn’t tell us and now we gotta go do everything ourselves so-“

“You are not going to beat up Quinn. And who is _we_?”

“Rys, Psy, some SIS agents, a Jedi and some idiot with a ship we need to use. Oh, and me. You too. And yes, I am. See. Watch.”

At that moment Quinn walked into the room, just as he did every day, and was greeted with a fist in his jaw.

Now Torian had taught Cien the basics of hand-to-hand combat. She’d learned more in barfights and Psy had shown her some moves to incapacitate anyone with nerve endings. Cien was no master but she was strong thanks to the weight of her armour and her daily life, and her gloves were armoured to help protect her fingers when she did punch someone.

Quinn on the other hand was trained in some basics from his time as a student and had not been expecting for a Mandalorian woman to be lying in wait to punch him in the face.

He went down fast and hard. He was still conscious but the bruise forming under his eye looked quite painful.

“Cien, stop” Wrath commanded. She reached out with the force to prevent the Mandalorian woman from swinging again. She neglected to stop her legs though, and Quinn was greeted with a boot to his stomach before the Mandalorian leaped backwards out of range of any of his attacks with her arms raised up to placate Wrath.

“Look, I’m gonna leave now so you two can talk this out and then we can go kick ass” Cien said as she made her way back towards where Quinn lay gasping for breath on the floor.

Wrath looked at her in wordless surprise.

She didn’t speak for a long while, even after Cien had left and the only sound was a wheezing noise from Quinn and the humming of her lightsaber. 

 

 

 

Cien took her helmet off after waving goodbye to Jaesa and Vette, and exiting the ship.

Her hair was plastered to her scalp. That was the thing about being a Mandalorian; they didn’t seem to care whether or not your hair was smucked down, or that you were meeting friends afterwards and that the helmet made her sweat like a rancor. 

She ran her fingers through her hair and attempted to free it from its place which succeeded only in causing some of the shorter strands to fall into her eyes. 

She gave up on the exercise to go find her shipmate and the first of two people she needed to speak to about what she'd done. 

There was a young woman in Sith robes waiting for her near the exit of the hanger.

The poor thing looked pale and nervous, and it was hard to imagine her making it through the academy.

“Darth Imperius sent me, he wanted to know if you were successful" the woman explained nervously to her. 

Cien nodded and gestured for Mako to join them.

“Yes, they should be working it out. Not sure how that works with Sith, but it should all be fine.”

More than one person had asked if Mako was Cien’s sister. She’d found if annoying at first but it had become kind of nice. She could understand why too.

They both had the same face shape and were similar in colouring, even if Cien’s eyes were grey and her hair was a little lighter. Cien also had a stockier build than Mako did, and her cybernetics were hardly as well made.

Mako’s were small and neat, and not really necessary. The earpiece that Cien was sporting didn’t fit perfectly into her ear and the dulled metal had been swallowed up by scar tissue along her jawline.

Mako was also much better at being _nice_ to people than she was.

The slicer was kind-hearted and people automatically trusted her. Cien was better at scaring people and making threats.

“Hey, nice to meet you” Mako called over cheerfully as she approached them.

The effect was immediate. The woman looked less shaken and she gave a small smile back in return.

_Greetings,_ the Mandalorian realized, _that’s how polite people talk… didn’t even ask her name. Karking...Too late now. Should I say something... No. Then it would just be weird. They aren’t even talking about it now and... now I don’t know what they’re talking about._

She blinked and brought herself back to the present.

“… and that’s why we try to keep them inside now” the Sith was saying.

Cien realized that something was expected of her and Mako was laughing. Cien gave a small smile and nodded to disguise the awkwardness she was feeling.

The Sith woman nodded cheerfully and turned to leave.

Once she was gone Cien turned to Mako with a helpless expression on her face.

“Oh, you are useless” Mako told her with a broad grin.

Cien frowned. “I don’t like talkin’ to people who look all scared. They start lookin’ more scared and then the whole thing is just awkward. Stupid nerfherder.”

“Yes, you are. She used to be a slave. One of Imperius’ apprentices is going to be teaching her. I asked her how her duties were going. She was talking about some rare species of bird that escaped on one of the others.”

“Oh. I guess it was funny then.”

“Yes it was. I also assured her that you aren’t as scary as you look, and that Imperius doesn’t care where you came from, as long as you do your best.”

Cien looked at her armour. She couldn't change her face and smiling was not going to be done more frequently. 

“I painted it. It doesn’t look that scary” she protested.

Mako rolled her eyes. “You’ve got more marks on that armour than Gault does enemies. Painting something yellow and blue doesn’t hide much.”

“What am I supposed to do? Get rid of it? Torian gave it to me.”

“I think he’d understand if I made up something about structural integrity.”

“Let’s get out of here” Cien muttered as she jammed her helmet back onto her head.

She could hear Mako laughing as they stepped out of the hanger to where their contact was waiting. 

 

 

 

Penn resisted the urge to groan for about the hundredth time in two hours.

_I notice they never ask you to do these things, which means it’s about my background and not an actual rule or anything._ Kira had been wrong.

Normally he would have refused taking on a new apprentice but Satele had asked him personally and he wasn’t about to get into an argument with the Grand Master over something she’d clearly already arranged.

Now he was wishing that he’d lied and was back on the ship with Kira. He would have honestly preferred talking to Scourge than _this_. He needed time to get to know his new padawan. Alas, duty had called and Rehlran had been busy, so there he was. In a jungle with an apprentice he'd known for less than a day. 

A smile danced across the Mirialan’s face at the thought of Kira but disappeared just as quickly when his apprentice spoke again.

“Are we going to be there any time soon?” the girl whined.

He forced another smile. “Yes” he said.

The other Mirialan frowned like a small child. “That’s what you said an _hour_ ago” she retorted loudly. 

The smile became even more forced. “It’s also what I said a minute ago when you last asked” he muttered.

Part of him knew that he just needed to give Althalia a chance.

The rest of him was wondering why he’d agreed to train her without actually meeting her first.

That had not been one of his better ideas.

“We don’t have any other Mirialans who can take on an apprentice and I’d rather not have your situation be put on her” Satele had explained.

Mirialans tended to only be trained by one of their own species. Penn’s case was rare in that his first master had lost her life, and after being sent back to Tython, Master Orgus Din had taken the padawan on.

Althalia would likely have been forced to wait around the temple while someone tried to call a Mirialan back from the front lines to train her.

She had plenty of potential. She was extremely sensitive to dreams and was seen as an excellent source of intelligence from the futures that she saw.

She was also extremely annoying and had a different style of combat than her Master.

Penn was not one to teach the more force-orientated battle strategies. He was a duelist, possibly one of the best in the Order, and he used the force primarily to help in those situations.

Kira and Scourge were hardly of any help. Penn was considering taking her for some basic training with Rhelran or her apprentice, Nadia, but he’d been called on to this planet instead.

The jungle was thick and the trail had a tendency to get smaller and smaller before disappearing altogether and forcing them to cut through the brush they couldn’t move with their lightsabers.

Penn had nothing against jungles. He’d been on worse planets in his time with the Order. He did have something against the humidity and bugs that continuously swarmed around them.

Quesh was a toxic wasteland full of Imperials, but at least there hadn’t been blood-sucking insects in swarms like this. You could kill the big ones with a lightsaber. These ones just stayed there.

Penn’s apprentice hardly seemed to like the jungle any more than him. She was trudging around and speaking loudly.

Normally he’d have told her to be quiet but this was a test as much as it was a mission.

They were within a ten minute walk of the crumbling old ruin of a temple that was their destination when she suddenly stopped.

She was standing there stock still. Her yellow-green face was flushed and her bright red hair was soaked. Her eyes were tightly shut as the young Jedi gave him the signal to stop.

“Something wrong?” Penn asked her.

She nodded, eyes still closed. “I sense a presence… I cannot tell if it is friend or foe but it is definitely human and powerful.”

She lowered her hand and opened her eyes to find her new Master staring at her with a slight smile on his face.

“You’re right. There is someone ahead” he agreed.

The praise seemed lacking somehow and Althalia found herself feeling slightly confused. “You knew? When did you sense them? I knew you were strong in the force but my foresight and ability to feel the intentions and sense the presence of others is better than yours, according to my teachers.”

“Perhaps,” the other Jedi shrugged. “But there are two pairs of tracks and plenty of broken branches and signs of another passing by here recently.”

The padawan flushed and looked down to see one small but deep set of, clearly humanoid, footprints with a lighter pair following them, matching step for step.

“Oh” she said quietly. Her confidence withered as she realized that she had missed such obvious signs. This had been a test.

“You are talented, but you need to learn to trust your other skills. The force may not always be there for you and you can’t be helpless if it is” her master said kindly.

“The teachers at the Academy said that the force is everywhere” she snapped.

Penn sighed. “There are ways to prevent force users from using the force; machines are capable of this and some species are resistant. The chance that someone is more powerful than you and can manipulate what you see is also true. You need to learn to rely on your eyes at times, and I’d recommend learning some basic unarmed combat in addition to lightsaber training. I can teach you if you want me to.”

Althalia smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Master.”

Penn shook his head. “Noooo. _Please_ don’t call me that. Makes me feel old. Penn is fine. It’s my name.”

Althalia truly looked at her master then. He was pretty young, she realized. He was probably only about four or five years older than she was by the looks of things. “Alright, Penn. Then you can call me 'Althalia' instead of 'padawan'” she declared. It was a test of hers this time.

To her surprise he smiled broadly at her. “Good, that was my plan. Now come on. We’ve got people to talk to.”

They began their trek to the ruin once again. This time Althalia was mindful of the clear marks of the other group's passing. She was looking at a tree branch when she asked “What is the reason we’re here?”

“What? Oh, they didn’t tell you?” he sounded surprised.

“No” she answered.

He didn’t speak and looked lost in thought for a moment.

“Penn?” she called.

“We’re looking into the ruin up ahead. A Sith named Darth Jadus had some of his soldiers working in the area to excavate it. We need to know what he found there.”

“Who is Jadus?”

“A former member of the Dark Council. He was extremely powerful. He had different ideals than his colleagues though and took matters into his own hands. His plan was to fake his death along with hundreds of others. He brought them to a ship and ended up using them along with several anti-Imperial groups to plan an attack of the Empire using a new weapon.”

“I take it the Sith stopped him then.”

“No, Imperial Intelligence was unaware of the connection until one of their agents discovered him onboard the ship. At the time they assumed they were merely dismantling the terror group that killed him.”

“So they called in the Sith and they killed him?”

“The agent was told to go and prevent him from activating the weapons but in doing so he allowed Jadus to escape. He is still alive somewhere, but they were unable to find him before the organization was disbanded.”

Althalia nodded. “So why did he want to attack the Empire? And why are we looking for him?”

“He was planning on causing fear in the hearts of all citizens and performing a ‘purge’ of some kind. I’m not quite clear on the details. As for why we are looking into him, it’s because he was able to hide from the Dark Council. He also was probably one of the most powerful members and his power and knowledge were vast but he hid it all instead of passing it on or sharing it, even with his daughter.”

“So we want the information to help kill the Emperor. That’s what your job is, right?”

Penn smiled wryly. “Yes, although that is proving harder than it was last time” he said.

“You fought the Emperor?” Althalia exclaimed.

Penn laughed humourlessly. “I thought I _killed_ him. I’ll do a better job of it this time, and I’ll give you all of the details once we’re back on the ship.” 

They were silent for a moment. The only sound came from the quiet step of Althalia's master and the heavier ones of her own. 

“Where did all of this information come from?” Althalia asked. She wanted to talk more about the Emperor but something inside of her told her that she would do best to wait. This seemed to be the topic that we would actually answer, and it seemed to her that the Republic would trust more than rumour before sending some of the most powerful members of their order after a ruin in the middle of a jungle on a planet with no name only a number.

“One of the agents assigned to the mission defected to the Republic. He now works with one of the SIS teams. He gave the report to his superior, a former Jedi, and he gave it to the Council in hopes that we might be able to make some progress.”

“I didn’t think you were one for old ruins” Althalia remarked.

“Usually I’m not. I actually prefer being out here than back on Tython. It’s peaceful there, normally, and I like the quiet. Out here we can truly make a difference though, and it’s nice to meet different people and explore.”

Althalia frowned. “This mission doesn’t seem like something you would want to do, that’s all” she explained.

“It’s not.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

Penn smiled. “Actually, we weren’t supposed to be here. Master Rhelran was going to come but she got held up with some Council business so we were sent instead. She’s given me strict instructions on how to properly document everything.”

They entered the clearing when Althalia noticed that they weren’t alone.

The ruin was old and crumbling. Mighty pillars had toppled over and were now the homes to birds and coated in moss and some sort of purple plant that had grown up and around the stone. The only remaining section of the building was a doorway that led into an open area that must have once had walls.

It was there where the two figures stood. Both turned and walked towards the approaching Jedi at quick pace.

“Master,” Althalia exclaimed in alarm. “That’s a Sith.”

“So it is” Penn muttered. “I thought that our Mandalorian friend was handling this” he called over.

The nearing figures had now taken form. The first was a woman. She was on the small side in terms of her height. That didn't make her look any less intimidating though: her muscles looked well-formed and large even through her armour. She was clearly in excellent shape and very strong. A single lightsaber swung from the belt she was wearing. The woman’s face was what some would call ‘pretty’, she was pale, possibly from corruption caused by the dark side given that her face was crossed with pale black lines. Her eyes were also shining bright yellow in the darkened eye sockets. Her brown hair had been pulled back into a ponytail.

Everything about her screamed practicality and power.

The man next to her was different. He was pale in the way that Imperial officer always were. He looked as though he’d been inside his entire life. His outfit also seemed like a uniform even if it was simply a grey shirt and pants. The man’s dark hair was impeccably styled. He looked like the poster boy for a recruitment poster.

“She was busy doing something of more import, Jedi” the Sith called out. Her voice was strongly accented and carried easily. She was the kind of woman who was accustomed to being obeyed.

“Not everyone has the time to wait for you to finish meditating and show up” the man added.

“Well _we_ didn’t have to murder any villagers to get here” Althalia shouted back. It was unnecessary to. They had stopped a several feet away with their hands hovering above their weapons.

Althalia was about to do the same.

Then she looked at her master to see him standing with his weight on one leg and his arms folded over his chest. He looked as though he was talking to someone in a bar rather than two hostiles in a jungle.

“I was told that a member of the Jedi Council was to assist” the Sith woman said.

“Master Rhelran was busy,” Penn told her. “Council business, I’m here to send her the data we collect.”

“You are not the Master” the woman stated rather than asked. It was clear that she knew at the very least that the member she was meant to meet was a Zabrak woman.

“Well, no. That’s why we’re having this conversation. I’d appreciate it, however, if we could just get past this little difficulty and find what we came here to rather than having this pointless discussion on the fact that you are not wearing Mandalorian armour and I don’t have horns” Penn suggested to her.

The woman snarled and drew her blade. A vibrant red that extended from the light grey, clearly ancient in its design, lightsaber hilt.

“I do not know who you are Jedi, but I was not informed of a change of the plan.”

“Neither was I” Penn pointed out. His posture had changed from relaxed to about to draw his blade. Normally he'd have tried to keep this Sith talking but he didn't want to risk her attacking his padawan. Besides, she was clearly not going to listen to him. 

He gave a nod to his Althalia.

“Take care of the soldier. He is a medic, but he’ll have field training. Use the force if you can and make sure that you stay away from the two of us” Penn instructed quickly as he flicked the switches and the longer light blue and shorter green blades sprung to life in his hands.

Althalia drew her own double-bladed saber and locked eyes with the man pointing his blaster at her.

“I am Lord Wrath” the Sith woman proclaimed. “You have shown me no proof that you are an ally-“

“Neither have you” Penn muttered. "You've just made pretentious speeches and threatened us." 

“And as such I will defend the plan against you” she finished. Althalia wondered if she’d heard him.

“Wait a second.  _You’re_ the Emperor’s new Wrath?” Penn asked.

"You are surprised?" Wrath asked him. 

“Well, not offense or anything but I thought you’d be taller.” 

That was when the Sith charged at them. 


End file.
